Yours For A Day
by TheDailyKnight
Summary: Slash, AU, Chronology Igorned, Merthur. When Prince Arthur annoys council, King Uther decides that he must be punished. Merlin is given Arthur as his servant for the day. But when Merlin entrusts Arthur to clean his own room, things go very pear-shaped very quickly. Can Merlin find Arthur again and can he undo the chaos that ensues? All rights belong to the right holders.


**Yours For A Day**

Merlin grinned widely as he opened his eyes and rolled over. Today was the day. Everyone in the castle knew about it. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen. He rolled over in bed and stared at the door. Any minute now and he would be here.

The door opened and Prince Arthur walked in, looking a little sheepish. He was nervous, thought Merlin. Good. I will keep him that way.

"Close the door."

Arthur smiled at him, raised his eyebrows, but obeyed.

"Yes, master."

Merlin felt a thrill pass down his spine. This was going to be more delicious than he had imagined.

"Have you got my bath ready?"

"It's upstairs, in my bedroom waiting for you."

"Then help me get dressed and you can take me there."

"Yes, master."

Arthur helped Merlin out of bed and on with his clothes. He kissed Merlin's cheek when Merlin tapped it, smiled, and allowed Merlin to lead him out into the corridor. He followed meekly behind his man- his _master_ as he was led through the castle and into his own bedroom where, true to his word, a steaming bath had been prepared.

Once the door was closed, Merlin turned to him and smiled.

"You've done well."

"It was only filling a bath."

"Sorry? It was only filling a bath..."

"It was only filling a bath, _Master_," Arthur corrected himself with a smile.

"That's better," replied Merlin with a smirk. "Help me off with my clothes."

"Yes, Master."

When Merlin had been stripped to the skin and he'd got into the tub, Arthur kneeled beside him and began to wash him.

"So," said Merlin, unable to hide the grin from his lips, "you're mine for the day."

"Yes," replied Arthur. "You know I am."

"For being a naughty little prince in council?"

"My father thought it would teach me to obey him if he made me your servant for the day."

"It was an interesting move."

"You could say that."

Merlin lounged out in the bath, allowing the hot water to relax him as Arthur ran a cloth over his smooth body.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you still dressed?"

Arthur frowned. "I didn't realise that it offended you, Master."

"It does," replied Merlin, imitating Arthur's best bored voice.

Arthur attempted to keep a straight face, but failed miserably.

"What would you have me do, Master?"

Merlin grinned at him as he stroked the back of Arthur's head affectionately.

"Guess," he purred.

Arthur smiled. "I couldn't possibly imagine what you mean, Master," he teased.

"Oh dear... do I have to instruct you in everything?" asked Merlin.

Arthur nodded. His cheeks had gone red, his breathing had increased and his eyes had taken on the lustful shine that Merlin associated with a sleepless night ahead.

"Manservants these days," sighed Merlin theatrically. "You just can't get the staff."

He winked playfully at Arthur who seemed amused.

"I quite agree," he replied. "What should I do to please you, Master? Instruct this poor, humble manservant."

At this he bowed his head at Merlin.

Merlin ran his fingertips lightly across the back of the Prince's neck, gently along his jawline to his chin and lifted his head with a finger.

"Let's see..." mused Merlin. "How should I train my new manservant? I know. Do you like kisses?"

Arthur's blush deepened and his mouth went dry. He nodded wordlessly.

"Very well. Whenever you get something right, I will kiss you. Do you agree?"

Arthur nodded again. The sparkle in his eyes was one of amusement as Merlin stroked his cheek with a wet hand.

"But, if you get something wrong, you will be punished. Your father has given me permission. Do you understand?"

Arthur nodded again, but his nose had wrinkled in distaste.

"Good. Now, come in and join me. You must have worked hard to drag all this water up here this morning."

Arthur stripped off without thinking about it and got in next to Merlin. It was only when he saw Merlin shake his head slowly that he realised he had forgotten something.

"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"You... you just did it so quickly," replied Merlin. "Haven't you ever played this game before?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Never? Not even with your previous servants?"

"Merlin, you're the only one the King has ever made me serve for a day," replied Arthur.

Merlin sighed. "I suppose I will have to teach you then."

"Teach me what?"

"How to be a good servant."

Arthur raised his eyebrows and stared at Merlin incredulously.

"And what makes you think you're qualified to teach _me_ that? You fail your duties as often as you fulfil them."

"I don't piss off council though," replied Merlin pointedly.

Arthur made to argue, but Merlin put a finger up to silence him. "Remember what I said about punishments."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Would you rather I handed you back to the King?"

Arthur glared at him but said nothing.

"Wash my back."

Merlin sloshed around in the water to face away from him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Wash my back, Arthur," replied Merlin. "It's a simple enough request, one that even you can't get wrong."

Arthur blinked. Had Merlin really just said that to him.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because... because... because _I am the Crown Prince of Camelot, that's why!_" he snapped.

Merlin rounded on him.

"Not today and not to me," he growled. "You have been taken out of that role because you showed exactly this attitude to council. You're now paying the price. I can be very nice and make this day very easy for you, Arthur, against the King's wishes because I happen to like you. But if you're not willing to learn, if you're not willing to play along, I can also make today very, very difficult for you. You know the King has given me immunity from any repercussions of today. I suggest that you play along. Now, wash my back. I won't ask you again."

Arthur looked like he'd been slapped. He picked up the cloth without any grace, wetted it, and began to rub Merlin's back vigorously.

"Gently," said Merlin, and Arthur eased off, annoyed but forced to comply.

Merlin was right, damn him. It was his own hot-headedness that had landed him in this situation and now he was paying for it.

After a while, Merlin stood up. "You can now get my clothes ready," he said, picking up a drying cloth. "Have they been cleaned?"

"I had them fumigated," replied Arthur is his most patronising tone. "You had things living in them."

"You must have put them there then," replied Merlin, ignoring the jibe. "I keep my clothes clean, thank you. Perhaps I should have you seen by Gaius to make sure you haven't been carrying lice? Which outfit am I wearing today?"

"How should I know?" exclaimed Arthur. "You haven't told me."

"I have to tell you?" yawned Merlin. "I don't recall you ever telling me what you want to wear. You just expect me to make the decision for you. So, come on, what is it? The red with the blue, or the blue with the red?"

Arthur glared at him, snatched up the nearest shirt and jammed it over his head. He helped Merlin into his trousers just as roughly and resisted the urge to throttle him with the red neckerchief. Had Merlin not have placed a hand against his neck as it was being tied, he would probably not have survived the experience.

"Now, as to your chores-"

"-Chores?"

"Yes, Arthur, chores," replied Merlin. "I do them, so now you have to do them."

"Don't bother," grumbled Arthur, striding to the cupboard. "I know what needs doing and I don't need to take orders from you to do them."

"Erm, Arthur?"

Arthur pulled the door open and reached in, pulling out a broom.

"Arthur, that's not a good broom to use."

"What? Merlin, I know how to sweep a floor, ok? I assume that's what you want me to do?"

"Yes, but-"

"-But nothing, Merlin. Sit down and watch me if you want, get all the fun out of it that you like, but _don't give me orders and don't tell me how to sweep!_"

He flourished the broom at Merlin, who leaped sideways as Arthur let out a cry of surprise. Furniture was upturned as the broom dragged Arthur across the room and began to dance its way across the floor, sweeping of its own accord.

"Merliiiiin! Heeellllp!"

"Don't panic!" yelled Merlin as Arthur was flung over the bed and landed on top of the errant stick. "It's all under control!"

"How?"

"Just don't-"

Arthur's feet kicked the floor and the broom sped off, shattering its way through the window with Arthur aboard. It was only his chainmail that prevented him being sliced to ribbons. His fading howls of terror could be heard outside as Merlin dashed to the window and stared out. He had to get after him before he did himself some real damage. Why could Arthur never _listen_!

He stared around the room. There wasn't much to choose from and certainly nothing he really wanted to fly on, but he had little choice. He opted for the bed. With a huge effort he floated it to the shattered window panel and positioned it in a way he was happy with. With a flash of his eyes it drifted forwards and squeezed its way through the gap in the wall. It was an unpleasant experience and Merlin found himself much happier when it was over and the bed picked up speed, hurtling over the perimeter of Camelot in the direction Arthur had last gone in.

As he sped over the countryside on his unusual mount, Merlin could only guess what Uther was going to say about this when he found out. There was no way that he couldn't. He wondered whether the excuse of him chasing after Uther's son, who was presently riding a broomstick, trying to save his life would carry any weight or land both of them in it. With luck, Uther might die of the ensuing heart attack when told what was happening and all their problems would be solved. But right now, a flying bed in broad daylight was not good news.

So pre-occupied had he become in his worry about Uther that he failed to see Kilgarrah in the distance, cruising through the sky at a leisurely pace, seemingly without a care in the world. When he did, it was too late.

He lurched the bed sideways in an attempt to avoid him, but it wasn't enough. Half a ton of dragon was hit directly in the side by a flying bedspread and he bellowed in fury and pain. Digging his claws into the wood, he turned to face his attacker and came face-to-terrified-face with his Dragon Lord. It was really a testament to the strength of Arthur's bed that it hadn't disintegrated. Maybe the woodworm were holding it together, or maybe Merlin shouldn't have been so worried about the bed collapsing under them on so many nights, but whatever it was, Merlin was very glad. It lasted a whole second.

"What?" Kilgarrah bellowed as he scrabbled to hang on to the front of the contraption.

"Sorry!" exclaimed Merlin. "I don't know how to steer. Would you move a bit? I can't see where we're going!"

Kilgarrah stared at Merlin in angry, pained shock, but did as Merlin asked. He really had little choice. If the Dragon Lord wished it, it would have to be done. He moved so that Merlin could see over one of his vast shoulders.

"Never in the history of magic has a dragon been treated so badly!" he bellowed, but Merlin was already leaning left to try to avoid a looming hilltop.

They skimmed by it with only feet to spare, terrifying a herd of goats in the process.

"What are you doing up here?" Kilgarrah snarled as Merlin lay to the head of the bed and they rose again, the far end of the bed pointing skyward, away from the danger of the ground.

"Trying to steer, trying to locate the Prince," replied Merlin.

In spite of himself, Kilgarrah frowned.

"Have you seen him?" asked Merlin.

"Why would he be up here?"

Merlin explained.

"So the son of my hated enemy is flying around on a broomstick in broad daylight and doesn't know how to control it?" rumbled Kilgarrah. "Interesting."

"Have you seen him?"

"There was something shooting through the air towards the Gloomy Mountain a little while ago," replied Kilgarrah. "I thought it was a banshee."

"How so?"

"It was howling like one."

"That'll be him. Which way is it?"

"Straight ahead. You can't miss it."

"I wish you'd put that another way," grumbled Merlin. "I can't steer very well."

"Then you certainly won't miss it," rumbled Kilgarrah.

He pushed himself off the bed, fell away, stretched his wings again and glided back up to fly alongside.

"Have you been to the Gloomy Mountain before?"

"No!" replied Merlin. "It's hardly a place I would choose to go on holiday."

"In that case, some advice: Beware the... well, everything," said Kilgarrah. "I'll be seeing you later."

"Hey! Wait! Aren't you going to help me?"

"Help?" rumbled Kilgarrah. "Help? Merlin, I've been rudely and painfully slammed into by a royal oak bed when I've been minding my own business. I most certainly will not help. I need to land and recover. You're on your own this time."

And, with a flick of his wings, he wheeled away. Merlin watched him until he was out of sight. On the horizon, rising out of the plains like a nightmare needle, the Gloomy Mountain began to hint of its existence. This was the furthest Merlin had ever been from Camelot. It worried him. He slipped under the blankets as the air around him became colder and yelled Arthur's name. There was no reply. He sighed and sat up.

If the mountain was all the way over there, he thought to himself, then it was high time he started to learn how to fly the bed while he was all the way over here, wherever here was. He looked over the edge and wished he hadn't. It was a long way down.

Gingerly, he eased the bed into a turn. It flew like... well... a bed. That is to say without grace, tact, style or general acrobatic ability. It took him a little while to master it, but after considering it to be nothing more than a particularly stubborn horse, he eventually gained a degree of control. Enough to make it go up, down, left, right, backwards, forwards, hover and plummet, anyhow.

"What more could a guy need?" he wondered as he approached the foot of the mountain and slowed it to a crawl so that he could look around.

The mist made it hard to see the ground or anything else from any height and he was forced to descend. It was only when the bed slammed into a tree and threw him to the ground beneath it that he realised exactly how thick the mist was.

He looked around. Tendrils of grey smoked and curled around unseen things all around him. He cursed. How the hell was he going to find Arthur in this? Something screeched loudly and flapped by overhead and he jumped, spinning on his heels to try to work out what it was. But he couldn't see a thing. The noise faded away into the distance and he was left alone in the silence.

He shivered. The chill of the air was getting to him. He had to find Arthur quickly, he knew. He walked ahead gingerly until a tree loomed up out of the mist and he leaned against it, trying to think. What would Arthur do? If he'd actually landed here, what would he do?

But that was the trouble. Merlin had no way of knowing whether Arthur had actually landed there, crashed there or had by some miracle learned to steer the broom he was on. He might even have missed the mountain altogether and could easily be still streaking off into the distance somewhere high above his head. Or, he thought, he may even have turned the broom around and flown back to Camelot. Well, probably not _all_ the way back to Camelot – even Arthur wasn't stupid enough to fly a broom straight back into town. King's son or not, he doubted Uther would allow him mercy for such a flagrant breach of the law. He'd probably land on the outskirts somewhere and walk in, if he could. Maybe he was even in front of a nice warm fire now, worrying about where his Merlin was.

Merlin shook his head. He realised that he was trying to justify going home, that the last place he wanted to be was on this god-forsaken hole of a mountain. He looked around and carried on walking, hoping to pick up tracks somewhere.

What was it Arthur had once taught him? Always look at the ground for disturbances, for roots that look out of place, bushes with broken twigs and feel which way the land was sloping so that you could re-trace your own way if you had to.

Well, he mused, the latter was no problem at all. The ground was rising and the incline was getting steeper as he walked. As for the local plant life, he mused as he passed under a low-hanging, twitching-vine-encrusted tree branch, it looked absolutely vile. There was no way on earth he was going to go anywhere near it to inspect it for broken twigs. Half of it looked like it was built to repel an army with the size and number of thorns on it, and the other half looked like it wouldn't have to bother – an army would just look at it and decide to turn back on their own.

A couple of times a vine would reach out and snag Merlin's clothes and he'd let his eyes flash and burn the offending plant to cinders. He wasn't quite sure, but as the miles went on and he became more tired, he almost got the impression that the plants were no longer bothering to attack him. If anything, they drew back to allow him easy passage. It was almost as if word had got out following his first few encounters with them and the ashen piles he had left behind, that this was a meal that was more bother than it was worth.

He smiled darkly to himself as a whole tree bent away from him as he passed it, nearly uprooting itself in the process. Perhaps there was something to be said for a reputation.

Eventually, with no sign of Arthur at all, he came to a clearing and lay down. He ached, his muscles were screaming from the steep uphill climb and he was scratched in several places thanks to the few vines that had decided to try it on. He needed to rest.

Merlin didn't know how long he had been asleep when he was rudely awakened by a huge hand lifting him roughly from the forest floor. All he knew for certain as he was tossed into a huge canvas sack that was drawn tightly shut at the top and was carried roughly along ten feet in the air, was that sleeping had been a bad idea. A very bad idea.

He singed a hole in the side of the sack and looked down. He was certainly being carried, but had no idea what was doing it. All he knew was that the one thing he could see – a single, huge thumb and thumbnail with a grotesque sharpness to it – could not mean good news. He considered jumping, but the thing that was carrying him was moving too fast. He became aware of footfalls, heavy and lumbering, beneath the bag on the far side, tramping the vicious plants below as whatever had caught him carved its own path through the forest, pushing aside the trees as if they were matchsticks.

He settled back into the bag and tried his hardest not to wet himself. He failed miserably.

He was never sure how long he'd been in the bag, being jolted and jostled, but he became aware eventually that the creature holding him had slowed. He heard a sound like an iron portcullis being raised in front and then lowered behind, then an orange glow as if they'd gone indoors, and then the unmistakable sound of size 100 boots on stone as they climbed a set of spiral stairs. A door was unlocked and heaved open, he was deposited roughly on a tabletop, and the door slammed shut again behind him. Apparently the thing – whatever it was – had left him there.

He peeped out of the bag... and fainted.

When he came to again, he took a few moments to steel himself before opening his eyes. He wasn't on the tabletop any longer. Thick bars surrounded him and an unknown hand was stroking his forehead. He frowned and sat up far too quickly. His head spun, lights flashed and he almost passed out again. A firm hand kept him from falling over.

"Easy, Merlin, take it easy. Breathe."

He breathed again. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to face the voice.

"Arthur?"

"The one and only," replied Arthur, mustering a grin.

His armour was caked in blood, his sword was slightly bent and his arms were bruised, but other than that he was unmistakably Arthur.

Merlin flung his arms around him in relief.

"You're alive!" he exclaimed into Arthur's neck.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but returned Merlin's hug.

"Very observant," he murmured, ruffling Merlin's hair.

"I came looking for you after you... Arthur, this is all my fault! I should have told you that the broom was enchanted. I use it for cleaning your room and you didn't give me a chance to say anything I just-"

Merlin was silenced by a firm finger applying gentle pressure to his lips.

"It doesn't matter," replied Arthur. "We have bigger things to worry about. I'm glad you're here."

"You're glad to see me?"

"Very. I needed bait, so it's great that you showed up on time. I was starting to wonder what I was going to use."

Merlin stared at Arthur in disbelief.

"Y-you... you... you need... bait?" he managed. "Erm... this might be... well, this might sound like a silly question... but... what exactly do you... you know... need bait... for?"

Arthur grinned and clapped Merlin on the back.

"You know that thing that dumped you on that table over there and then stuffed you in this cage with me?"

Merlin nodded slowly.

"Well, Merlin, that is an ogre. That's what I need bait for."

The colour drained out of Merlin's face as he stared at Arthur.

"An... an, an, an... an... ogre? An _ogre_? Really?"

Arthur grinned and nodded.

"I... I see. Why me?"

"Because, Merlin, it's not very wary of you. I stabbed it in the thumb with my sword earlier, so it's a bit reluctant to come near me right now. I need you to lure it over while I hide so I can attack it again."

Merlin got up and wandered over to the edge of the cage. He looked out. From what he could see, they were suspended in the air in the middle of an oversized kitchen. A large cauldron of water sat bubbling on the fire which was easily twice as big as Arthur's bath in Camelot which they could both fit into. He shook his head to dislodge the thought. He didn't like where that scenario was leading him.

"But why me?" he asked again. "You've got more meat on you. Surely the ogre wouldn't be interested in a scrawny little thing like me."

"Because, Merlin, you got us both into this mess with your magic broom."

It was a fair point, Merlin had to concede, but he still didn't like it very much.

"But, you know, if you'd rather become lunch for it I'm sure it wouldn't mind. See those carrots on the table?"

Merlin looked down onto the main table. The carrots that lay there were as long and thick as his arm.

"Yes."

"There was another guy in here with me earlier," said Arthur. "He was taken to the pot just before you got here, but not before the ogre stuffed him with carrot. You don't want to know where he put it and you don't want to know how loudly the guy screamed. Do you get the picture?"

Merlin nodded slowly.

"Do you want that to happen to you?"

Merlin shook his head.

"So you'll be my bait?"

Merlin stood still for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"What's the plan?" he asked.

The door creaked open and Merlin got to his feet and went to the bars. He watched as the huge, filthy figure of the ogre lumbered in. It was hideous. Merlin had to try his hardest to remain at the bars. It turned its ugly face towards him and snarled.

All three of its eyes, set into a triangle on its forehead, glared at him. It's huge, pointed, yellowed and decaying teeth were bared beneath its oversized, knobbly nose. A curtain of lank, filthy black hair cascaded down the sides of its face to meet with a thick mat of coarse hair that covered the rest of its grotesque, fat, sweaty body. It was certainly male. Unmistakably male, Merlin noticed and tried to ignore. It was very difficult to do. The horrid image seared itself into his brain to fester on the back of his skull. All in all, the thing was repulsive.

It lumbered over to him, picking up a huge wooden spoon on the way, which it brandished towards him, hitting the cage hard.

"Hey! Watch it!" yelled Merlin as it chuckled to itself, a low, throaty sound which wasn't at all pleasant.

Not a stupid sound, though, Merlin found himself thinking. This wasn't the common-or-garden ogre from the children's tales he had been told. It seemed far from being that stupid.

It reached up and opened the cage door, seeming to forget that there were two of them in there. Its great nostrils flared as it sniffed the air. As its eyes came level with Merlin, Merlin suddenly realised why. Two of its eyes were milky white. It was mostly blind. Mostly – he thought – but not totally. It still had some vision left – enough to make him out at least.

As it reached in, Arthur made his move. He darted out from under the straw at the bottom of the cage and began to hack at its wrist. Simultaneously, Merlin raised a hand, shouted a curse, and released a single fireball which embedded itself in the creature's one remaining eye. It wheeled away from the onslaught, screaming, as Arthur quickly climbed the side of the cage until he dangled from the roof.

"Ready?" he called, as the ogre crashed into the table and bellowed furiously.

"Ready."

Arthur started to cut at the rope which held the cage suspended as Merlin focussed all of his attention on a single spell. It had to work.

The cage lurched as Arthur's sword worked its way through the thick rope and Merlin hurried the spell along. His fingers glowed purple as he scythed them out to both sides of him just as the rope snapped. The cage wobbled sickeningly as it broke free of its anchor, enough to dislodge Arthur from where he was hanging. He dropped to the floor of the cage with a thud, rolled, and pulled the door closed.

"Get us out of here, Merlin!" he yelled, joining his boyfriend at the front. "Keep us high!"

Merlin moved his hands forward and the cage started to move, circling the room above the howling ogre beneath, looking for a way out.

"It'll have to be the window," said Merlin after a short time. "Hang on!"

"Oh, not again!" moaned Arthur as the cage picked up speed in a few more laps of the room and then shot towards the window.

Glass shattered around them as the cage broke free of its prison and fell the hundred feet to the moat beneath the ogre's castle. Then the air, cold and clammy, it them, its whistling drowning out the furious bellows of the ogre behind.

"We did it!" yelled Arthur triumphantly, grabbing Merlin around his waist and squeezing him tightly.

He threw his hands out to each side of him, mimicking Merlin. As Merlin turned them towards a brighter patch of sky and they finally emerged from the gloomy atmosphere of the mountain into the bright sunlight, a sudden wave of emotion hit Arthur in the pit of his stomach. Words formed in his voice box – from where, he didn't know – but as he stood there, high in the air, with the country stretched out beneath him – he couldn't help but yell out, "I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!"

He hugged Merlin tightly and whooped as Merlin turned them towards Camelot and home.

It was the early hours of the morning when Merlin landed them somewhat roughly in a field just beyond Camelot's walls. They stumbled from the cage and had just started to make their way towards the castle when they heard the alarm bells starting to ring.

"Keep quiet and let me handle this," said Arthur firmly as a troop of knights came charging towards them from the city walls.

Merlin just nodded. He was exhausted, battered, bruised and just wanted to sleep. He held on to Arthur for support as the knights circled them and pointed their swords. He recognised none of them. They were not the usual knights.

"Sire, we are glad to see you've returned safe and well," said one.

"So why, Balinor, do you all have your swords pointed at us?"

"Sire, if you please, the King has heard what happened to you. He is not happy that you have used sorcery. You are both to be taken to him at once."

Arthur could feel Merlin start to tremble, but whether it was with rage or fear he couldn't quite tell. Merlin stayed resolutely silent, his face carefully expressionless.

"And who told him such lies?" asked Arthur.

"I cannot say, Sire," replied Balinor. "He wishes to see you immediately."

Arthur sighed.

"Oh, very well," he replied. "Tell the knights to come and fetch that cage now, will one of you? _My_ knights, this time. I wish it to be delivered to the throne room without delay."

Without another word, he pushed past the knights and helped Merlin to make the long walk to the throne room as the guard followed them. He entered unannounced and slammed the door in the guard's faces. There was no need for them to hear this as well. They had done their duty.

The King turned. Arthur stopped. Merlin almost collapsed. He thought he'd seen the King angry before, but the expression on Uther's face this time was almost beyond description. Enraged would be putting it mildly.

He stood from his throne and glared at the pair of them.

"What is this?" he hissed. "No bows? No courtesies? No apologies?"

"I hardly think it necessary to bow if you're going to have my head taken off in the morning," replied Arthur icily.

The King sat down again and bit his knuckles.

"I am still the king!" he bellowed suddenly, "and I WILL HAVE RESPECT! KNEEL, BOY!"

Merlin had already fallen to his knees before this exchange, but Arthur went to his knees much slower.

"Stay down there and _don't look at me_!" hissed Uther. "I cannot believe what you have done this night, both of you!"

Behind them, the doors opened and Gwaine and Percival deposited the giant cage behind them before retreating, closing the doors behind them.

"_What_ is _that_?" demanded Uther, pointing a trembling finger at the cage.

"ANSWER ME!" he bellowed when neither of them replied.

"I thought you wanted silence," replied Arthur, still looking at the floor. "And I can't tell you if I can't look at it."

"Let me be clear on one thing, Arthur," he said coldly. "I might not execute you, but you're not too old for a public flogging. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly, Sire," replied Arthur through gritted teeth.

He turned his head sideways and saw the cage.

"It's a cage. We were imprisoned in it in an ogre's castle."

"Is this a sick joke?" asked Uther. "You really expect me to believe that?"

"It is the truth, Sire."

Uther's head snapped around to glare at Merlin.

"Did I ask you to speak?"

"No, Sire."

"Then be silent!"

"Yes, Sire."

"What Merlin says is true," replied Arthur, raising his head to meet his father's glare in spite of his order. "If it were not for Merlin coming after me, I would be dead right now."

"Alright, supposing what you say is true and not some elaborate lie to escape punishment - which, I might add, you will not - how exactly did you get to this castle? Half of Camelot has been talking about a flying broom and bed, and the other half claim to have seen it."

Arthur swallowed, then said, "It is true. After you decided to punish me for my actions in council yesterday by making Merlin my master for a day, I was assigned to sweep the floor. I grabbed a broom from the cupboard and it flew off of its own accord. I had no choice but to hang on to it and it happened to pitch itself out of the window. I had no control over it."

"I see," growled Uther. "And what role do you have to play in this disaster, Merlin? Arthur's bed is missing. Where is it?"

"Halfway up the Gloomy Mountain," replied Merlin, his voice shaking. "I was forced to enchant it to chase after your son. Had I not done so, Arthur would still be flying off into the sunset."

"Ah, yes," replied Uther, sitting down on his throne. "Your magic. How do I know that you haven't planned this whole event?"

"You don't," said Merlin, shaking visibly now. "But you also know that I love your son. Why would I shoot him out of the window and off over the horizon?"

"Why indeed?" mused Uther. "You don't always see eye-to-eye with him, do you, Merlin?"

"No, and I won't stand here and deny it," replied Merlin. "But I would not use my magic against him intentionally."

"Oh?" said Uther, looking Merlin in the eye. "But what about unintentionally? What about if he made you particularly mad? Would you strike out at him then? If you were provoked?"

"No."

"How can I trust you?"

"Because you're provoking me now and I haven't struck out at you."

Uther's eyes widened and Merlin swallowed but he knew he'd gone too far and there was now no going back.

"You believe that you could beat me in a fight?"

"Sire, my magic is strong. I know that I could do serious harm. But that is exactly why I do not. You are still my King and Arthur is still my Prince. It would be harming family for one thing and would be against my morals for another. Anyway, Arthur would never forgive me, and I don't want that."

Uther stood suddenly and drew his sword. He swung it around in a huge arc but stopped it just before the blade cut through Merlin's neck. It hovered next to his jugular, trembling with fury. Merlin hadn't flinched.

"I will not harm you or your son, Sire," he said evenly, "and I certainly will not harm you now. Take off my head if you wish, but spare your son's."

Slowly, Uther moved his sword away and re-sheathed it. He prowled back to his throne and sat down again.

"As much as I hate to say this, Merlin," he growled, "I find that I can't bring myself to kill you on the spot as I should. Arthur would never forgive _me_."

He turned away from them.

"You shall both receive forty lashes at daybreak in the town square," he said. "I shall not tolerate this lack of respect and flagrant breach of our laws. Remember that I have spared your lives. Guards!"

Two guards walked in.

"Take the prisoners to the dungeon. Inform the Chief Whip that I have a job for him."

Merlin and Arthur left the room. Neither spoke. Neither bowed. As a result, Uther added another ten lashes each as they left.

The sun rose the next day over the town square, which was largely devoid of people. It seemed that while Uther had wanted a public flogging, most of Camelot were avoiding it in silent protest. News had travelled fast. Only Gaius was on hand to tend their wounds after the event. He watched gravely as they were both led, naked, to the whipping posts and tired to them.

It seemed to Merlin that his hands were tied particularly tightly. He found himself somewhat relieved that they hadn't blindfolded him too. The King arrived a few minutes later and took a seat in front of them. To one side, they heard the sound of a long, leather whip being uncurled and a few experimental strokes taken at the ground. It certainly sounded agonising.

"Proceed," said Uther, glaring at the pair of them.

Merlin steeled himself. The guard raised the whip. There was a shrieking sound as it cut through the air then... nothing. Arthur opened his eyes and frowned. He had been expecting the agony of a whip blow, but instead nothing had happened. He looked sideways at Merlin, or, at least, where Merlin should have been. He'd vanished.

He felt the cords loosen, then untie themselves. His wrists were free. He massaged some life into them.

"Step towards me. Do not step backwards. I can control many things, but taking energy out of things is not one of them. If you touch the whip, you will receive its full blow."

He did as he was told. Suddenly, Merlin appeared out of thin air beside him. One moment he wasn't there, the next, he was. Arthur jumped.

"Merlin! What the hell are you doing? What's happening?"

Merlin put a soft finger on his lips to silence him.

"Do you remember what I told Uther yesterday?" he asked, kissing Arthur gently on the lips.

Arthur frowned and shook his head.

"I said that I could beat him in a fight, but that I would not harm either of you. I also said that I am strong. Arthur, even you haven't grasped how strong. Look around yourself. What do you see?"

Arthur looked. Nothing seemed odd at first but then...

"Everything's stopped," he whispered.

And stopped everything indeed was. The birds hung in the air above, the bees were frozen in mid flight. Uther's face was paused in mid grimace and the whip hung motionless in the air. Except... except that it didn't. If you looked carefully, you could still see a small amount of movement.

"It's not quite stopped," replied Merlin, grinning. "Although I'm glad you think I'm capable of such a feat. No, all I can do is slow time to a crawl. It's enough though."

"All you can... all... _Merlin_! This is _incredible_!"

A huge sunny grin, one of Arthur's best ever, was festooned on his lips. He spun Merlin around and hugged him tightly. He couldn't believe he'd just got out of fifty lashes.

"Merlin, you are _full_ of surprises!"

At this, Merlin actually blushed. "Well... I try to please. You, at any rate, if not him."

He gestured at the King.

"He's never pleased," replied Arthur, his seriousness returning. "What are we going to do about all this? What do you have up your sleeve, Merlin? I take it that it's safe to assume that you didn't slow time for nothing?"

"Completely safe," replied Merlin. "Do you know how difficult this is?"

Arthur shook his head, and this time it was Merlin's turn to laugh.

"Well of course you don't!" he exclaimed. "How could I expect you to?"

"You still haven't answered my question," pointed out Arthur. "How are we going to get out of this mess?"

"With a little help from my magic," replied Merlin. "But first, I need your permission for something. I need to do something that will affect the King. I need your permission though, as the Prince of Camelot."

Arthur sighed.

"Merlin, I can only authorise things of that nature when the King is incapable of doing so himself," he replied.

Merlin shrugged and smiled broadly.

"He doesn't seem very capable of authorising anything at the moment, does he?" he replied, gesturing at Uther, who was motionless and silent. "In fact, by my approximation, I've slowed time enough that it would take him about six months just to open his mouth. I'd call that pretty incapable, wouldn't you?"

Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but instead it morphed into a wide grin.

"You sneaky, sneaky sorcerer, you!" he exclaimed.

Merlin blushed again. "It was nothing," he said, suppressing a laugh.

Arthur, however, didn't suppress a thing. He threw his arms wide and laughed loudly at the dawn, spinning around with his arms outstretched. When he finally calmed down, he asked Merlin, "So, what do you need my permission to do?"

"It's quite simple," replied Merlin. "I have reason to believe that King Uther has been getting a bit stressed recently, and I do not believe that this is conducive to his health. As the Court Physician is also incapable at the moment, I feel that it is my duty to do whatever is in my power to, erm, expedite your father's recovery."

"And what did you have in mind?" asked Arthur, his eyes twinkling with glee.

"Well, from my observations," said Merlin, putting on a mock authoritative voice, "I do believe that the false rumours of flying brooms and beds have rather pushed the King too far. I think he's been overtaxed and it would be beneficial for him to forget the whole thing. That is my opinion."

"It would be useful," agreed Arthur.

"I would therefore like your permission to administer to him a single spell, one which will wipe the memories of the events of, oh, say, the last day," said Merlin. "In my hands, it's perfectly safe. Do you agree?"

Arthur geninuely thought carefully for a few minutes and Merlin remained silent.

"This is out of genuine concern for the King?"

"And Camelot."

"If it was in anybody else's hands other than yours, Merlin, I would refuse and take the consequences," replied Arthur. "But, I happen to trust you. You would not be breaking your promise to him. You will, after all, be helping him, not hurting him, will you not?"

"Indeed, Sire," replied Merlin.

"Well then," said Arthur, still grinning broadly, "I don't see what harm you would be doing him. In that case, as Crown Prince and Acting King of Camelot during my father's... incapacity, I hereby give you permission to carry out your plan."

"Thank you, Sire," replied Merlin.

Arthur watched as he turned and walked over to the King. A moment later, his eyes glowed and the King's expression went slightly vacant. After a few minutes, a smile began to creep into the corner of his mouth.

"It is done, Sire," announced Merlin once he was happy. "Now, I suggest that we take him to the throne room, clean up the mess, get you a new bed and then I'll put everything else back to normal."

With that, Merlin floated the King into the air, hovered the throne into line behind that, and they marched back to the throne room, King, throne, Prince and Sorcerer.

The hardest part, Merlin would later muse, was getting past all of the frozen people who stood in their way. At one point they had to move a whole crowd of people into a totally different room to get through. There were, he knew, going to be some very confused people when the spell was lifted.

Once the throne and the King had been re-installed in the Throne Room, they had dressed again, Merlin had summoned back Arthur's old bed which flew back in the way it had left - but this time unobserved- and Merlin had modified the memories of all witnesses, he finally stepped to the side of the throne room and he and Arthur assumed a modest posture.

A flash of his eyes later, and time returned to normal. Uther blinked and glanced over at them.

"Your behaviour today was unforgivable, Arthur! Merlin, you will be Arthur's Master for a day starting now!" he snapped. "Dismissed!"

As Arthur and he left the throne room, Arthur pushed him into a nearby room and slammed the door behind them.

"Do you mean to say that you didn't make him forget that?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, but I can only modify so much," replied Merlin apologetically. "If I had to make him forget that, I would have to make him forget your rudeness to the council. If I had to do that, I would have to make him and council believe that they had never been summoned. If I had to do that, God knows what else I would have to change! How far back would I have to go, Arthur? How many linkages would I have to break? Trust me, it's not convenient, but it is safer this way."

"But you're my Master!"

"For a day, yes. So, we're back where we started... sort of."

Arthur sighed and threw his hands up in defeat. He knew when he was beaten.

"Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"What is the first thing that you want me to do for you?"

Merlin grinned and pulled Arthur close.

"Well, now that you come to mention it," he purred against Arthur's neck, "you're too dangerous as a servant. I can't even trust you to sweep a floor, you know. But... I guess there is one thing that you can do for me, considering how much I have done for you in the day that didn't happen."

"Which is?" murmured Arthur.

"Get on your knees and polish my sword."

Arthur laughed as he obeyed. It was the least he could do for his Merlin, after all.

21


End file.
